


Enjoying the sights

by NotPersephone



Series: Count and Countess Lecter [13]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Summer in Venice, bedannibalprompts, decadent domesticity, happy marrieds, this is nothing more than, which is my kink oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 14:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14978864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: Count and Countess take delight in a lazy morning in Venice.





	Enjoying the sights

They have visited so many places, yet this remains her favourite view.

Her eyes have barely opened, eyelids still heavy, but a gentle smile pulls at her lips almost immediately. Through the dispersing haze, she instantly recognises the familiar figure standing by the open door of the balcony. The morning mist slowly lifts across the canal, giving way to the searing sun and declaring another hot day. Bedelia is grateful for the palazzo’s stone walls, keeping most of heat away. The bright rays slip vigorously through the window, encircling Hannibal and making him appear like nothing more than a dark silhouette. A naked, dark silhouette.

Bedelia continues to smile. Even in the shadow, she can easily discern his body, the broad lines of his shoulder, the gentle curve of his spine, all the way down to his firm buttocks. Her gaze lingers on his behind, slowly taking in the desired view.

Now fully awake, she remains still, not wanting to alert his sharp senses and enjoy the pleasurable sight for a little longer. A cup of espresso in his hand, Hannibal gazes at the canal below their window, no doubt observing the city come to life and the first boats passing by. He takes a sip and shifts slightly in his stance, making the muscles of his buttocks flex and relax in turn. Bedelia licks her lips and presses them together to muffle a pleased hum.

If it weren’t for the sun pouring in, she might have noticed a smile playing about Hannibal’s lips as well as her intense stare have not gone unnoticed. Finally, he turns his head to look at her, unfolded comfortably among the sheets of their bed, with her azure eyes gleaming at him brightly.

“You are staring,” he says while his smile becomes wider.

Bedelia chuckles; he certainly enjoys being the one saying it for a change.

“Am I not allowed?” she takes up his game at once, her head moving across her pillow, in order to see him better, a stream of blonde locks spilling behind her.

“Not very becoming for a Countess,” Hannibal teases her further and his eyes flicker.

“I thought being a Countess means I can do anything I desire,” the words pour slowly from her mouth, like dripping honey, and her body stretches gradually across the bed. An intoxicating mixture.

“Absolutely anything,” Hannibal forfeits the game, now merely staring at her with adoration.

He turns around and stands still, allowing her to take in the full view. And she does; her eyes wander freely across his body, staring shamelessly with evident pleasure. She extends her limbs, soft cotton wrapping across her naked skin, as she twists her body, feeling free and utterly content. And full of anticipation.

“Do you have any more surprises planned for today?” she asks, continuing to gaze at him.

Last night, what she thought would be a dinner for just the two of them, turned out to be a gala in Ca’Rezzonico. She did not ask how he obtained the invitation; her initial reservation towards a public appearance was mixed with a shiver of excitement when she saw the words _Count and Countess Lecter_ engraved in gold on an ecru card.

“Did you enjoy last evening?”

“Yes, I did,” she can see Hannibal’s eyes lighting up even more upon hearing her words. She knows her contentment is always his priority.

“I was a bit worried we might encounter someone who might have known you in Florence,” she admits.

Her alertness remained present, but her concerns dissipated when they entered the ballroom, dazzling them with splendour, dripping with gold and crystal. Hardly any introductions were made before Hannibal took her in his arms and guided her to the dance floor. As they glided across the polished parquet, the faces and the lights melted together in a blur of warm colours, purely an impressionistic background to the vivid portrait of the two of them.

“No one knew Count Lecter,” he responds with a sure grin, “besides, all the eyes were on you,” a strange mixture of pride and jealousy infuses his eyes.

“Well, I was not the one who obtained that dress,” she retorts, amused by his expression.

A floor length dress of most delicate satin, bare to below her waist in the back, clinging softly to her body, gold embroidery shimmering with her every step. It came as no surprise that people stared at her.

“It was made especially for you,” he smiles at her again, his eyes clouded with the memory of her appearance last night.

Hannibal spent most of the evening slowly tracing her exposed back with his fingers, stopping just at the seam of the dress, mindful of her displeasure with excessive displays of public affection, but unable to refrain himself. Especially knowing the cut of the dress made her abandon lingerie for the evening.

Now the dress remained discarded, somewhere between the main door and their bedroom, nothing more than a prop that had served its purpose. Bedelia tries hard to recollect the exact spot but fails to do so; the only thing she remembers is the frenzy of adoring lips and hands eager to uncover skin and caress places they couldn’t during the event. The gala was barely a beginning of their night, she recalls with a smile, still feeling pleasurable aches lingering in her body.

“You attracted a few stares yourself, Hannibal,” she counters, stretching herself further and trying to yield her sore muscles into submission.

“Barely. Signora Moretti was ready to leave her husband for you,” he reminds her of a particularly attentive woman who spent a good portion of the evening at Bedelia’s side, refilling her glass at any given chance, while her husband was forgotten somewhere among the elegant crowd.

“The heiress with the vineyard in Tuscany?” she reaches her hand over her head and extends her back.

“Yes.”

“Interesting,” she tilts her head up as if considering the appeal of a countryside villa.

Hannibal’s brows furrow slightly and she can see by the quiet determination in his stare that he is ready to purchase her a vineyard at any given moment. Bedelia hides her grin with another stretch.

“You look quite endearing when you are being nonsensical,” she comments with affection and he averts his eyes at once, a boyish blush on his face.

A soft laugh escapes her lips; she adores to see him this way. She knows it is a side of him that has always been reserved for her alone.

After a moment of silence, Hannibal abandons his spot by the window and walks towards the bed. He stops by her side and Bedelia reaches her arms out and lets her fingers slowly brush the trail of hair running down his abdomen but then pauses at his hip bone. A disappointed groan escapes his lips when the hand does not move further and falls away, but he says nothing. Instead, he sits down at the edge of bed and finishes his coffee.

“Would you like an espresso?” he offers, placing the cup on the side table, then resting his hand on the bed, across her body.

“Not yet,” Bedelia is luxuriating in her languid state and not quite ready to abandon it.

She reaches her hand out again, this time to stroke his cheek, enjoying the feel of his stubble against her skin. Hannibal turns his head, nuzzling her palm, then places a kiss on her fingers, before leaning forward and kissing her lips. Bedelia sighs softly, relishing the tender caress, and inhales deeply; she loves the unmasked scent of him, so uniquely his. It is warm and inviting, but never overbearing, making her want to submerge in it completely. She is no longer amazed that it makes her feel safe.

“Perhaps we can enjoy _breakfast_ instead,” his lips venture on to her neck, encouraged by her reaction. Their adventurous night did little to diminish his hunger for her.

“It is too _hot_ ,” she utters breathlessly, as he presses his body against hers, but angles her head as his mouth plants kisses under her jawline.

His response is to wrap his arm around her frame, pulling her closer, then rolling onto his back, with Bedelia now resting on top of him.

“Better?” he asks with a satisfied grin.

“Yes,” Bedelia cannot help but concede, her drowsy body suddenly springing to life with a fresh appetite, matching his.

She pushes herself up, her hand on his chest as she sits astride his thighs and Hannibal lets out a delighted murmur, his hands already busy pursuing the lines of her body and gently caressing the mounds of her breasts.

“I believe it is my time to enjoy the view.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ca’Rezzonico does not organise galas to the best of my knowledge as it is a museum (one of my favourite places in Venice too). But their ballroom is so stunning, I could not imagine a better venue for the Count and Countess. Only the best for them, it was a very exclusive event, after all. :)  
> Feedback is love!


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